Trouble
by Zoni
Summary: After stumbling upon an unexpected scene, Ronald can't stop thinking about Alan. When he tries to set things right, however, he finds himself in quite a bit of trouble. Eric/Alan, Ronald/Alan, Eric/Ronald and Eric/Ronald/Alan. You read that right. ON HIATUS


**Trouble  
**_by Zoni_

Long days and longer nights were the norm at the Shinigami Dispatch Association. Even if you were handsome, popular and charmingly charismatic, you could still expect to stay late. That was why Ronald Knox was in a particularly good mood. After all, for the first time in two weeks, he was scheduled to leave early enough that he might actually be able to go out and enjoy his evening.

What an evening it would be, too. Staring at the papers in front of him, he mulled over his recent dry streak. There was no denying the fact that he was an enviable ladies man. However, he had been striking out for almost a month. Even though he went to all the usual bars and used all the usual pick-up lines, he just had not been able to seal the deal. No frets, no worries, it was just a phase. That was doubly true since he had a date with one of the girls from the accounting department. She would not be able to resist his endless charms.

Sadly, before he could reclaim his reputation and maybe down some drinks, he still had work that needed to be finished. Sighing, Ronald gathered up the last stack of reports and shuffled them until they sat neatly in a pile. A quick survey of his desk told him that he had run out of file folders. Planning ahead was usually paramount to saving time. The lack of foresight on his part was worrisome. He hoped that this slip-up was not an indicator of how the rest of the evening was going to play out.

Getting up from his seat, Ronald made a beeline for the old supply closet. Usually, spare folders were kept in abundance in the offices. Unfortunately, he had cleaned out the last of them. A quick check of the shelves where they normally resided revealed nothing but dust and hole-punch left overs. Even the extras had been cleaned out. That meant a trip down the hall.

Ronald dreaded the storage room. No one ever went in there. The air smelled funny as a result of musty paper and fermenting ink and everything was covered in a thick crust of white dust. At least, that was the way it had been the last time he had gone down there nearly eight years before. The room was so infrequently used that he had once overheard someone suggest that the storage room was the shinigami afterlife.

The flickering lights in the hallway did nothing to improve the atmosphere. Ronald looked up at the battered wooden door and let out a sigh. Why was it that nobody else had needed folders and taken the time to restock them? That would have saved him the trip down. In fact, judging from the light under the door, it looked like someone_ had_. Taking a few steps closer, his ears detected the sounds of someone in the storage room. He smiled, his mood lightened by the thought that he was not completely alone in the dreary storage area of the offices. No doubt, company would make things much more pleasant. With luck, the company might even be cute.

Confidently placing his hand on the handle, he pushed the door open. "Hey, guess you needed some folders, t-"

The moment the door swung open, he realized what he had been hearing in the hallway. To say that the storage room was currently occupied would have been a gross understatement. In front of him, he saw the very last two people that he would have expected.

Alan Humphries was sitting perched on a counter, his jacket missing. His waistcoat and business shirt, ordinarily in flawless order, were both unbuttoned and pushed open to reveal a smooth expanse of pale skin. His legs were wrapped tightly around an even more surprising person. The department supervisor, Eric Slingby, was completely shirtless, though still wearing a tie. Even from the brief eyeful that Ronald got, it was easy to tell that his trousers were unfastened. They were both panting and sweating, wrapped tightly in each others arms.

For a long moment, Ronald stared dumbfoundedly at the scene in front of him. Eric pulled his lips away from Alan's neck and turned to grin at Ronald. Clinging to Eric, Alan stared at Ronald with a look of complete shock, his mouth still hanging open from letting out a pleasurable moan. The sound died on his lips as he realized that they had an audience.

"Uh... right, then," Ronald muttered vaguely. "'Scuse me."

Turning, he walked out of the storage room and shut the door behind him. Despite the barrier, he could still clearly hear what was happening inside.

Alan's voice was alarmed, speaking quickly. "Eric! He just-"

The sound of a hearty laugh interrupted and the words turned into a moan.

Staring back at the door in horror, Ronald paused for only a fraction of a second before hurrying away as quickly as possible. Aiming straight for the men's restroom, he stepped inside and ran to the sink. The door slammed closed behind him just as he reached the porcelain.

Turning the cold water on, Ronald pulled his glasses off and splashed his face. Placing his hands on either side of the sink, he let the water run. Panting, he tried to catch his breath. As some of the water dripped into his mouth, he spat and then tried to catch his breath.

_Man, that was embarrassing._

Over his years at the Dispatch, Ronald had seen his fair share of office scandals. Heck, he had been the source of a few of them. However, not once had he ever walked in on two shinigami he knew having sex in the office. He had heard rumors, of course, and everybody knew about the boss and Grell. This was something different, though. Embarrassing was an understatement, moreso for the fact that he _knew_ both of them. Good lord, had they no shame?

A part of him had always wondered whether or not the supervisor and his trainee, well known around the dispatch, were on good terms or not. Though they were frequently seen working together, they always seemed politely detached. Any doubts as to whether or not they got along were now quite clearly erased. In place of the curiosity, all that Ronald felt was the thorough embarrassment at having caught them in such an intimate act.

Well, no, that was not quite true. Half the reason that he was so mortified by what had happened was the fact that he had not expected to be turned on by it. Without even wanting to, he could easily picture every little detail of what he had walked in on. Something about the contrast between the two men, half-dressed and obviously aroused, struck him as bizarrely appealing. And, frankly, Alan kind of looked like a girl when he was all worked up like that.

"Oh, for the love of pete, it's not like that!" Ronald shouted at nothing. The lavatory was empty.

There was absolutely no way he was actually enjoying that thought. And there was absolutely no way that he was actually turned on by it. Surely, he was just in shock. After all, he was a ladies man. A smooth ladies man, at that. He had a date with that girl from accounting later. Right. And, she was going to bring a friend. Maybe two. It was going to be a heck of a night.

Letting out a groan, he knew it was useless. No amount of telling himself that he liked women would do anything to kill the fact that he had sort of enjoyed what he had just seen. Sort of being a very mild way to put it, not that he would admit it.

Running a hand through his carefully styled locks, Ronald's thoughts went to Alan. He could easily see the brunet's flushed cheeks, his pale skin...  
He put a stop to the thought as soon as it surfaced. The person that he had worked two desks away from for more than a decade was _not_ someone he wanted to think about like that. It had to be the fact that he had not yet had a drink, or maybe he just needed a bit more sleep at night. There was an explanation for why he was thinking like this. He would figure it out. Just then, however, he would get back to work and forget all about what had just happened.

Turning off the water in the sink, he dried his face and slid his glasses into place. Checking his appearance in the mirror, he straightened his hair and then returned to his desk. He only prayed that he would not have to see Eric Slingby or Alan Humphries for the rest of the day. He would concentrate on work, find something to do with those files that did not involve a folder and put the whole horrible incident behind him.

)/-\(

At the end of the night, Ronald clocked out. As he had planned, he and the girl from accounting went to a bar. They drank too much, laughed a lot and talked very little. Yet, at the end of the night, he returned to his flat alone.

The conversation had been dull. The food was tasteless. The girl was annoying and she snorted when she laughed. Her friends were pretty, but they just were not his type. He could have taken the two of them home with him if he had wanted. They had been begging for it. He knew it. He had not gone through with it.

"Ronald Knox, you are an idiot," he told himself, sinking into a chair with a glass in hand.

Whether or not he was an idiot seemed immaterial to the problem at hand. And there _was_ a problem. That much was painfully obvious. The problem was the fact that, even though he had spent the entire evening in the company of beautiful women, his mind had continued to stray back to the scene he had stumbled upon earlier that day. The seductive smiles of his date had been replaced by Alan's face, lips parted in pleasure. He had nearly even called her by the wrong name as he had bid her good night.

Yes, there was definitely an issue. Ronald Knox had developed a crush. Worse, the person who had caught his interest was not even one of the ladies from the secretarial division. No, it was none other than Alan Humphries. No amount of denial could wipe away the fact that he was still every bit as turned on by his earlier memories as he had been when it happened. That fact was driven home as he realized that he was rubbing his quickly-developing erection through the fabric of his trousers.

Groaning loudly in annoyance, he pulled his hand away and quickly downed the contents of his glass. Standing up, he balled his free hand into a fist. He had to stop. That was not normal. It was not right. After a few drinks and some sleep, he would almost certainly be able to forget what had happened and life would return to normal.

)/-\(

Only it didn't.

Two days later, Ronald emerged from a cold shower with a sense of general dismay. Though the frigid water usually helped to kill misguided thoughts, all that it had done was make him cold and irritable after he had relieved his tension under the water. For whatever reason, he could not get Alan Humphries out of his mind.

That particular reality had managed to make his life a living hell the day before. After all, they worked in the same office. Not only that, but their desks were only feet apart. They had managed a polite good morning and then had not spoken for the rest of the day.

While he had initially figured that they would both play dumb and try to forget what he had walked on, Ronald found out that it was easier said than done. He had literally run into Alan in the hallway on the way back from one of his breaks, making things increasingly awkward. Ronald had managed half of an apology before Alan had blushed, given a staunchily polite response and then walked away as quickly as possible.

By the end of the day, Ronald had finished less than half of his usual workload. His tangled thoughts were far more distracting than he would have originally thought. His last break of the day had sealed that for him, as he had run into Eric Slingby in the breakroom. The supervisor had grinned at him. When Ronald had turned to hurry back from his desk, coffee cup still half-empty, he could hear Eric laughing behind him.

Things could not keep going the way they were. No matter how many times he had told himself that the entire situation would blow over, he did not really believe it. Something had to be done, and soon. No matter what angle he tried to consider the situation from, it would not resolve itself. The more that he tried not to think about Alan or what he had walked in on, the more impossible it became not to.

One way or the other, he knew that he would have to try talking to the brunet. What he would say was a mystery. After all, he did not like men. At all. It was just_ Alan_. The entire conversation was bound to be awkward, and he would almost certainly be turned away. Not that he wanted anything. Even so, if it put an end to the awkward tension, it would be worth it.

With that in mind, he had formulated a plan. It was already late afternoon. He knew for a fact that Alan had gotten off work an hour earlier. For better or worse, he would get cleaned up and go over to the other shinigami's flat and talk to him.

Shaving, dressing and fixing his hair, Ronald set out for his destination on foot. Alan Humphries' flat was familiar to him only due to the time or two that William T. Spears had asked him to go check on the other shinigami. Even so, he found it easily enough.

Approaching the door, he halfway hoped that no one would answer. Reaching up, he knocked three times. The door did not open. The interior of the house was silent and still. Letting out a heavy sigh, Ronald turned and began to walk away. Alan was not home. That meant that he would not have to deal with confronting him. At the same time, he felt vaguely disappointed. After all, he kind of liked talking to h-

"Ronald?"

Freezing in his tracks, Ronald turned and looked over his shoulder. The door to the apartment had opened and Alan stood in the doorway, casually dressed down after a long day at work. Oh, going to the apartment had been a bad idea. However, there was nothing to be done for it just then. After all, Ronald was already there.

Laughing nervously, Ronald turned around to face the other man properly. "Ah, hello. I was wondering if you might have a minute to talk."

Alan looked at him curiously for a moment, hesitation obvious in the half-frown on his face. After a moment, however, he nodded. Offering a small smile, he said, "Please, come inside."

Ronald paced back to the flat and stepped inside, noting the click as the door slid shut behind him. The small apartment was quaintly decorated and cozy. The entrance hall and the small kitchen that he had stepped into were impeccably clean. Looking around, Ronald could not help but notice how different it was from other shinigami's homes, which tended to resemble neglected offices. This place actually looked like someone lived there.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Alan asked, his voice interrupting Ronald's thoughts.

"Well, I kind of wanted to apologize for the other day," Ronald started, stumbling over the words as he tried to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. "I mean, I really wasn't... expecting to... you know, planning on walking in on... yeah. Sorry."

Flushing, Alan's expression flickered between embarrassment and amusement. "It's... fine. Thank you for the apology, but you really didn't have to come all the way over here for that."

"Well, I was kind of wondering..." Ronald paused, uncertain of how to continue.

"What is it?"

Toeing the floor nervously, Ronald looked away for a moment. Brushing off the nerves, he turned a winning smile towards the other man.

"Look, I dont know what's up with you and Mr. Eric," he said, feeling far less confident than he sounded, "but I was wondering if you might like t-"

The sentence was cut off by a large fist landing on the wall directly beside his face. Ronald turned, staring wide-eyed at the newcomer. Until then, he had no idea that Eric was even there. As it turned out, he was. And he did not look happy. Even though Eric was only a few inches taller, the supervisor seemed to loom over Ronald as he situated himself between the blond and Alan behind him.

"Well, well," Eric hummed, "look what we have here. Someone's getting a bit greedy, I think."

Taking a broad step to the side, Ronald could feel himself sweating. "S-sorry. It's not what it looks like. I mean, it's not like that. I just came over to apologize, and-"

"Oh, yeah? So I didn't just hear you ask for a piece of his ass, then?"

"What? No! I really had no idea," Ronald said, backpedalling. "Look, sorry. I'm just gonna go now."

He was stumbling over his words despite the fact that he was usually fairly smooth. The reason for his nerves was easy enough to see. As shinigami went, Eric Slingby was strong. Ronald was not. While there were many possible ends to the situation with Alan, getting his ass handed to him by the blond supervisor was not one that he had been hoping for.

Eric looked at him appraisingly. "I should have known something like this would happen. Alan said you might be trouble, but I figured you'd be too damn shocked to do anything."

"I'm not trouble," Ronald insisted hastily. "Really. Just wanted to apologize. I did, so now I'm gonna go. Alright? Right. I'll see you at the office."

As Ronald turned to make a beeline for the door, Eric blocked his path once more. The motion was not overtly aggressive, but it stopped him from moving towards the exit.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Home?" Ronald replied. "This won't happen again, I promise."

Any thoughts of leaving vanished as Eric chuckled darkly. "Oh, I can't let you leave now."

Behind the both of them, there was a loud shout from Alan. Ronald had almost forgotten that he was there. Coming up to stand next to them, the short brunet put a hand on Eric's arm, encouraging him to take a step backwards.

"He just came over to apologize," Alan told him. "Didn't you, Ronald?"

Smiling gratefully at Alan, Ronald agreed. "Yeah, it's like I've been saying..."

"Let him leave, Eric. It's not like he's done anything," Alan continued, keeping his eyes fixed on the supervisor's face. "We can talk about this once he's gone."

As Alan's fingers tightened on Eric's arm, the supervisor took a step backwards. He looked Ronald up and down, frowning. Not making a move for the door, Ronald felt it would be safer to see what happened next.

After a moment, Eric growled. "He's going to go straight to Spears."

Those seven words suddenly clicked in Ronald's mind. Eric's aggression no longer seemed like an overreaction. Despite Spears' own clear transgressions, interroffice relationships were strictly forbidden. After all, they led to a decline in productivity. They were one of several reasons that had been listed at the last office meeting when discussing motivation for employee termination. Whether it was company policy or just Spears being his usual overly controlling self was a mystery, but the point had been made.

"He's not," Alan told Eric reassuringly, patting his arm.

Ronald agreed, offering what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I'm not. Promise. You can trust me. Your business is yours, man. I'm not gonna say a word."

For a long moment, Eric considered the words. Slowly, a grin spread across his face.

After a moment, he looked at Ronald. "You want to fuck him, right?"

"Eric!" Alan shouted. Ronald just stared.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you or do you not," Eric said, emphasizing every word, "want to _fuck_ him?"

The silence in the room was deafening as Ronald stared at Eric. The question was so unexpected that he had no idea how to respond. On top of that, Eric was almost certainly baiting him. How was he supposed to respond when any response was likely to get him a fist to the gut?

Ronald's eyes drifted to Alan, who stood stock-still next to them. He was blushing, and Ronald could not blame him. He would probably be blushing, too, if someone just stood there and asked such embarrassing questions. However, Alan was not protesting or telling Eric to back off. That was bizarre, especially since Ronald knew from what he had seen in the office that Alan had no issues telling anyone off if they crossed a line.

"I'm not going to answer that," Ronald said cautiously, risking another step towards the door. "I'm just gonna go. 'Kay?"

"Leaving without even hearing what we're offering?" Eric asked incredulously. He took a step back, moving so that he was no longer occupying space between Ronald and Alan.

Seeing Ronald hesitate, Eric shrugged. "Go ahead."

Ronald turned towards the door, but paused. At the secondary pause, Eric grinned.

"He said he thought you were hot, you know," Eric told him. "Said if he ever had the chance, he'd like to see what you're like in the sack."

"I said no such thing!" Alan protested loudly, stepping into the conversation.

"Bullshit. You told me so just yesterday." Turning, Eric raised an eyebrow. "Anyway, that'd level the playing field a bit, don't you think?"

Surely, Eric was not suggesting what it sounded like he was. Ronald could not believe his ears.

"You're not seriously suggesting that he and I... have sex?"

"Why not?" Eric asked, meeting his eyes. "Sounds good enough to me. Then, you really _can't_ go running to Spears without cooking your own goose. Alan?"

"He's right," Alan said quietly. He was blushing so brightly that his entire face was nearly glowing. "If you might be... interested."

Whatever it was that he had planned to ask Alan for, it had not included moving that quickly. Swallowing hard, Ronald glanced back and forth between the other two men. His mind and body were clearly of two very different opinions on the subject. All logic told him that Eric was looking for a good excuse to punch him, or at least scare him shitless. His body, however, was not listening. Those images of Alan's face flushed with pleasure, thought of being able to touch him, was a temptation beyond what Ronald would have expected. What was more...

"You're serious," Ronald said skeptically. "You're really serious."

"As the grave," Eric said, grinning. "With one provision."

"What is that?"

"I'm in."

"'In'? What do you mean?" Ronald asked cautiously, frowning.

Eric's expression turned serious as he leveled his gaze at Ronald. "Nobody touches him unless I'm involved."

"Involved?" Ronald paused. As he realized what Eric was saying, his jaw dropped. "Wait, wait... all _three_ of us?"

Taking a step forward, Alan interrupted. Looking anxiously between both men, he asked, "What if Ronald isn't interested in something like that, Eric? You shouldn't make it sound like it's the only option."

Ronald had to admit, those warning bells in his head were getting louder by he minute. Regardless of the course of the conversation, Eric Slingby was never someone he had thought of even remotely sexually. Ignoring the fact that Eric seriously outranked him in every way, Eric was everything that Ronald had no interest in - tall, masculine and strong. Even if Ronald was willing to admit that he had an interest in Alan, Eric was just too much of a, well, man to pique his interest.

Even as he told himself that, though, he knew he was lying. After all, half the reason he had been turned on by the scene that he had walked in on in the storage room _was_ Eric. The contrast between the two men had definitely been arousing.

_Man_, he thought, _No matter what happens, I'm walking out of here with half my dignity intact, if that._

Taking a step forward, Alan met his eyes. "Ignore him, Ronald. You don't have to do anything that you don't want to."  
Ronald swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that the brunet was suddenly a lot closer than he had been previously. He really should turn and walk out the door.

"What if I say no?" He asked slowly.

"You walk away," Eric replied, coming up behind Alan and wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders. "You don't tell a damn soul. And, you never try something like this again."

Leaning down, the tall supervisor pressed his lips to Alan's neck. The arm that had been around his shoulders slid down. Using only one hand, Eric undid the top three buttons of Alan's shirt, pushing the garment open. Alan's face, already flushed, darkened and he bit his lip.

"So, kid," Eric murmured, "you in?"

**To be continued...  
**

* * *

_Author's Notes:_ I'm writing this story on commission. I'll admit, it's my first time writing Ronald for any serious length in a fic. Oh, lord, I'm having trouble writing this story with a straight face. It was originally planned as a one-shot, but has since been divided into two chapters. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it!


End file.
